


Seven Years in Debate

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Copious Cockles [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bickering, Cockles Week, Debating, Destiel - Freeform, Flirting, Fluff, Grumpy Jensen, Humor, M/M, On Set, POV Alternating, Protective Misha, based on actual events, jibcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:18:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the same, old argument every time, and everyone is truly sick of hearing it. But Jensen and Misha just keep on debating - for seven years, they never seem to tire of desperately trying to sway the others opinion. </p><p>"Destiel" ... who knew that the ones who'd be most enthralled, are the actors themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Years in Debate

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second contribution to Cockles Week 2015!
> 
> I admit, this isn't my best work ... but hopefully you all enjoy it anyway.

          It was supposed to be a joke, like it was with Jared.

          Just a “ _Hey, man_ … did you hear about this … _ha-ha-ha_ ” kind of thing.

          That’s what guys do … that’s how they mess around with each other.

 _Everyone knows that_.

          Everyone except for Misha _fucking_ Collins, as Jensen quickly found out.

           It didn’t surprise him when they got halfway through the fourth season and fans started asking what was up with _Dean and the angel_. He honestly wasn’t surprised by _much_ anymore—because between _Supernatural_ and _Supernatural fans’ imaginations_ … _everything_ seems to have been covered. _Hell_ , at one point they even thought Dean and _Sam_ were getting freaky in all those motel rooms. Jensen cringed at that one— _they’re brothers for Christ’s sake_. But he shook it off, knowing that he couldn’t sway the minds of millions. In any event, him and Jared had a good laugh about it, and they will _still_ joke around with the idea—both completely at ease because they _know_ the other is just being an idiot.

          But not _Misha_.

          No … _never Misha!_

          It was just an off the cuff comment—something worth a quick laugh and that should have been forgotten while waiting in line at the food truck. That’s all it was supposed to be, but when Jensen pulled himself close to Misha’s ear, deepening his voice—thoroughly getting into _Dean mode_ , whispering “Hey there, if it isn’t the _sexiest_ angel in the garrison” he wasn’t expecting it to start seven years’ worth of debates.

           “What?” Misha mumbled, turning slowly to face Jensen head on.

           The man laughed nervously, still unable to completely read his new friend’s deep, blue eyes. “ _Uhh_ … _kidding_. It was a joke … the _uh_ , the fans … they think Dean and Cas are like … _fucking_ or something. I just thought … sorry, man. I was just being stupid. _It’s stupid_.”

           “Why is that stupid?” Misha asked, his voice— _stern_ and _still_ sounding like the angel’s after their last take.

           Jensen raised an unsure hand to rub the back of his neck. “I—well, _you know_ , because Dean and Cas … it’s _obviously_ not anything _. I mean_ , they’re _friends_ at best. You’ve read the scripts.”

           Misha put one hand on his hip, quickly placing the other on the side of the food truck. He leaned all his weight against it—shaking his head at his co-star and acting like there was a lecture to be had.

           Jensen looked around them—wondering if anyone else was as confused by the guy’s reaction as he was.

           “ _Yes_ , I read the scripts and I saw _a lot_ between the lines. I can understand how the fans might infer something like that.”

           Jensen’s mouth gaped. He took one last survey of the lot—expecting Jared to be giggling behind a corner, ready to let him in on the joke _. No Jared._ “Seriously?” he finally reeled, meeting back up with Misha’s intense stare.

           “Of course … _interpretation_ is a major part of any good show. If the writers didn’t leave room for it, you probably would be auditioning for something else right now.”

           Jensen scrunched his face up, still wrapping his head around the fact that the two of them weren’t laughing hysterically over it all. “ _Really_? So you think … _you think_ Cas and Dean …”

           “I think it’s _possible_ ” Misha interjected, “and I don’t think the idea is all that ludicrous. _In fact,_ I hope that if the fans are looking for that sort of relationship in the show, the writers will be bold enough to explore it.”

           Jensen’s eyes blew wide. “ _Woah_! Hey now … I don’t know about you, but I’m not—”

           “I wasn’t specifically talking about you and me, Jensen … or, _well_ , _Dean and Cas_. I am just saying _in general_. There is not very much homosexual or _alternative_ representation on television these days; and what _is_ there—is either a punchline to a joke, or it’s the sole purpose for the show. I wish it could just be portrayed as a _normal thing_ —not a _big_ thing or something to gawk at, just _normal._ You know?”

           “No!” Jensen spat, his head spinning uncontrollably from the sharp left turn that this all took. “I mean … well, _yeah._ That would be cool … I’m not homophobic or anything. I’m just not _gay_. I just don’t … _ya know_ … I don’t want to be the one _doing_ the representing.”

           After a soft sigh, a smile returned to Misha’s face and he nodded—finally lowering his hand and standing straighter. “Fair enough. _Well_ … we’re holding up the line. Better get a move on if we’re going to eat before the next scene.” And with that, the man rounded the corner to start filling up his plate.

           Jensen remained in his spot on the warn blacktop—still staring blankly at where Misha had stood. “What the _actual_ fuck?”

            _He just wanted to make the guy laugh._

 

* * *

 

 

-Three Years Later-

          “What _are you_ saying? Because it sure as hell sounds like you want this to be some _romantic_ scene where Dean and Cas get busy in the back seat!”

          “ _Guys_?” Bob calls out, trying to catch the men’s attention, but Jensen and Misha are too far gone.

          “No! I admit … the dialogue _is_ out of character, and we _should_ adjust it so it’s a better fit; but I _don’t think_ we need to adjust _what_ is being said or _why_ ” Misha hisses—adopting a haughty stance and clenching his fists on his hips.

          Jensen throws out an arm in presentation of his friend, quickly looking around the set at the exhausted crew. “Can you believe this guy? Bob! Back me up here!”

          “I don’t want to get into this again, guys.”

          “What do you mean _again?_ We just got the script yesterday! And y _ou_ even said that this scene wasn’t adding up!”

          “He said that it was _worded_ weirdly and that some changes needed to be made—which, _I_ agree with; but you want to take out the _entire_ intention behind Dean giving Cas back his coat … you want to act like it doesn’t represent something, and it _obviously_ does!” Misha barks, bringing Jensen’s eyes back to him.

          “It can mean something, just not _that_ something!”

          “Why is it _all or nothing_ with you? You realize that there are different levels of intimacy, right? There are different undercurrents to every relationship? Cas doesn’t need to be fucking Dean’s brains out to show that he cares about him more than anyone else.”

          “ _Still_ …” Jensen pauses a moment, reaching over to grab a copy of the episode’s script from a nearby chair. He clears his throat, playing up a face that looks on the brink of tears. “ _I kept this … I guess—I guess I just always hoped you’d come back someday … I—I missed you._ ” His face straightens out once more, quickly looking fed up with it all. “Tell me that doesn’t sound like the end of _every_ cheesy romance movie you’ve ever seen.”

          “ _Of course it does,_ and like I said _several times_ —the wording needs to change, but there is a _reason_ Dean would keep Castiel’s coat. There is a _reason_ he would have it folded and carry it with him _everywhere_! There is a _reason_ that’s being eluded to here—either intentionally or not, but it’s there! You just need to realize it.”

          “Oh, _I realize it_ … the _reason_ is Dean’s a sentimental guy and missed his buddy. His _bu-ddy,_ and that’s it!”

          “ _Oh my_ —you are the most closed minded son of a bitch I’ve ever met!”

          A collective groan erupts from the crew—knowing _exactly_ how Jensen is going to respond to such a comment—and knowing it’s going to make this argument carry on for another twenty minutes _at least_.

          “Closed minded! _Ha!_ I’m sure _everyone_ seems _closed minded_ to a guy who’s so open, he puts hippies to shame!”

          “Oh you just _never_ let anything go, do you? I tell you _one time_ about some of the crazy things I’ve done, and then you just won’t _ever_ let it go!”

          “I didn’t force that information out of you, Mish. You _offered it_ … it’s not my fault how I react.”

          Misha’s hands toss up in the air. “ _See!_ That is _exactly_ what I’m talking about! You act like your immediate response to things is the _only way_ to respond and _therefore,_ cannot be changed or controlled. _That’s_ closed minded!”

          “No, that’s _normal._ ”

          “Well … I’m sure as hell glad I’m not _normal_ if that’s your definition.”

          Jensen laughs too hard, seeming to force sarcasm through every pore in his skin. “Don’t worry, man. _No one_ would ever confuse _you_ for normal!”

          “And no one would ever confuse _you_ for _accepting_ or _understanding_ or _pliant_ or willing to compromise or bend even just _a little_ for anyone else _ever_!”

          The men continue to rant, even as Bob gives the signal to wrap it up. There’s no use keeping everyone around for some excess shots that are neither necessary _nor_ likely to happen at this point. Jensen and Misha are too deep in their weekly routine, and aren’t even fazed as the large lighting stands behind them get shut down, and the backdrop at their sides is stripped away. They continue debating as the crew works around their heated gestures, not noticing how each person’s mouth practically moves with theirs—the words, _memorized_ from three years of hearing them over and over.

          As the last of the equipment gets packed away, and as Jensen grabs the copy of the script again to shove in Misha’s face—Bob leans over to one of the PA’s beside him, muttering low enough that he knows the men won’t hear. “They do realize we aren’t even shooting that scene until tomorrow, right?”

***

           Jensen’s phone jingles with a new text.

           “When are you flying out?” _It was Jared_.

           He smiles to himself, typing out a quick response and hitting “send” a moment later. “I leave in an hour. Should be there by nine.”

           Another notification flashes across the glass. “Me too.” But this time, the reply is from Misha.

           Jensen looks to the top of the screen, realizing that Jared had started a group chat between the three of them.

           “What flight you on?”

           “286J” Misha responds in no time at all.

           Jensen walks over and looks at the boarding pass he’d printed earlier. _286J._ He smiles, liking the fact that he won’t be making the eight hour trip alone this time. “Cool. Me too” he types, hitting another button and letting the message fly away.

           “Boarding soon, so I guess I’ll see y’all there?” Jared asks, and Jensen finds himself wanting to tell the guy to switch his flight so they can all go together, but that’s an added hassle that his friend just doesn’t need right now. Jared’s been stressed out lately—with Gen pregnant and an overly stressful season, he has a lot on his plate. A flight together _would be_ fun, but not at his expense.

           “Sounds good. Fly safe” Jensen texts back.

           “You guys, too.”

           “Thanks, we will” Misha offers.

           “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” Jared adds in after a few more seconds.

           Misha shoots back a response before Jensen can even read what their co-star had written, “There is very little you wouldn’t do, Jared.” He adds a smiley face at the end with a tongue sticking out.

            _What a dork_ Jensen thinks—trying to figure out something witty to add, but his two best friends seem to have it all covered.

           Jared tags another message to the conversation. “True, I have done a lot of stupid shit.”

           “Yeah and now I want to find something you haven’t done, and do it—just to say I did” Misha jokes—at least, Jensen _thinks_ he’s joking.

           “I haven’t done anything to join the Mile High Club … but that’s not for the lack of trying” Jared returns, his message—tied up with a winky face.

           “Well, I don’t think you have to worry about us beating you to that” Jensen finally replies, laughing at the thought of Jared trying to maneuver himself in one of those tiny bathrooms. It’d be hard enough for the man just to take a piss—none the less, _get some._

“Speak for yourself, Jen” Misha throws in, making him do a double take.

           “Figures” Jared follows.

           “Seriously?” Jensen adds on, but he’s not really surprised. He can see Vicki initiating _that_ _one_. She has the guy whipped, and she’s even crazier than he is _._

“Finally, something I win at!” Misha cheers—or Jensen assumes by all the wide mouthed smiley faces he’s tacked to his message.

           Jared’s text quickly follows “I admit, I’m jealous.”

           “Haha” is all Jensen can think to contribute to the new subject—which is starting to make him feel awkward for some reason.

           More of Jared’s words comes after a minute. “Well, at least I’ll probably still beat Ackles to it … unless you two decide to get freaky on the plane.”

           Jensen’s palms start to sweat, making his phone slip in his hand.

           “Don’t worry about that, Jared. I doubt even my best moves could work on the impenetrable Jensen Ackles.”

           Jensen’s discomfort contorts into a wiry grimace “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           Jared is too quick to respond. “Oh shit … here we go again.”

           “I’m just saying that you’re set in your ways … there’s no changing old man Ackles.”

           The grimace morphs into a snarl. “I’m not old, and I am capable of doing new things.”

           “So, are you saying you _want_ my moves to work on you?”

           Jensen freezes, realizing _that is_ basically what he said. His fingers fly, trying to dig himself out of this hole. “No! We were talking about the fucking Mile High Club … I was just saying I’d try it, that’s all.”

           “Oh lord” Jared chimes in.

           “But only with Danneel, right?” Misha asks, but Jensen feels that the question is more rhetorical than anything.

           “You act like that’s a bad thing. Yes, only with Danneel.”

           Jared jumps in again “Why did I start this?” but Jensen ignores it.

           Another text from Misha flashes onto his screen. “Not a bad thing, but you can’t even joke about doing anything else. It’s just a little uptight.”

           “Uptight? Wanting to sleep with my wife is uptight?”

           “This is no longer about the Mile High Club at all, is it?” Jared responds, basically texting to himself.

           “No, as usual—Jensen’s homophobia steals the show.”

           “Homophobia? What the fuck? Where did that come from?”

           “Probably the usual places: sheltered upbringing, a conservative republican background … religion.”

           “Dude … going too far” Jared warns, but Jensen is already red faced and gritting his teeth.

           “I am not homophobic and I really resent that, Misha.”

           A long pause follows—long enough that his screen turns black, making him set down his phone and think that _that_ may be the end of it all. He suddenly wishes that he was still flying alone.

           The cell lights up after another few minutes, and his stomach churns with nerves. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to cross a line, Jen.”

           “It’s my fault anyway, guys. I shouldn’t have joked about such a sore subject” Jared offers. He sends another text before anyone else can say a word. “Boarding. Take it easy guys … and play nice.”

           “Wait, what do you mean ‘sore subject’?” Jensen asks, but a reply from Jared doesn’t come. _He must have turned off his phone._

“I don’t know, that was weird. Anyway, I am sorry, Jen. I think I’m just tired, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

           The anger slips away as easy as it came—he knows Misha would never purposely insult someone like that … but he still can’t figure out what Jared was talking about. “It’s okay, man. But I got to get ready. I’ll see you at the airport?”

           “Yep. See you there.”

           With a smile, he sets his phone back down on the counter and heads to his bedroom to finish packing for his week back on set— _still_ wracking his brain, trying to figure out why the _Mile High Club_ would be considered a _sore subject_ for anyone.

 

* * *

 

 

-Four Years Later-

           “It really has gotten out of hand.”

           “Is it _that_ bad?”

           “It’s been _that_ bad for years … but lately, it’s just been awkward. _Painfully_ awkward.”

           Jeremy, Bob and Robbie all sit around a large conference table, rough drafts for season 11 spread out in front of them—long forgotten once Robbie proposed the idea for a Dean/Cas pairing again. Jeremy had already started to shut him down—knowing how ugly the subject turns when Bob is in the room; but to both of their surprise, Bob wanted to hear the guy out. When asked _why_ he was considering it now—the long discussion began about Jensen and Misha’s seemingly _eternal_ dance that’s been pulverizing the entire crew’s toes.

           “They start out bickering— _they all bicker._ They’re like the _weirdest_ little family I’ve ever seen. _I mean,_ you’ve at least seen that much, right?” Bob asks Jeremy—and the man nods, unimpressed so far. “Well, that’s how it starts, but then it just _builds_ and _morphs_. At first it was almost _angry_. A few years back, it seemed like they would get close to decking each other when the subject got brought up. _But now_ …”

           “ _Now_?” Jeremy asks, leaning forward with his curiosity.

           “Now it’s like this weird, angry _flirting_. It’s a game of romantic chicken, but … while still pretending that that’s not what they’re doing.”

           Jeremy raises an eyebrow, obviously confused by what the man is getting at. “I think you’re going to have to give me an example.”

           Bob’s face heats up, not wanting to have to go into detail about this—he doesn’t like to use many words when he doesn’t have to, and _really hates_ it when he has to. “Well … last month, we were filming their fight scene, _you know_. They were all bloodied up and for the most part— _serious_ and staying in character. But then Misha said something …”

           “Yeah?” Jeremy asks, looking over to Robbie who’s wearing a slight smile—as if he knows where this is all going.

           “Misha says how Dean can’t kill Cas because killing his _own soul mate_ would be too low—even for _Supernatural’s_ standards.”

           Jeremy can only scoff at the remark.

           “Well, we all just rolled our eyes and continued about our business because they _always_ do that sort of shit, and it’s not really new. But lately, Jensen hasn’t really been responding how he normally does … _I mean,_ I guess for the past couple of years he has been getting more and more … _flirtatious_.”

           “How do you mean?” Robbie asks, now grinning ear to ear.

           Bob rolls his eyes a little, figuring the _fan favorite-writer_ would be the one to get a kick out of all this. “Well, in _this_ case—he walked up real close to Misha and leaned in and just whispered something in his ear … and then Misha pushed him away, laughing. And then they started bickering again—almost like normal. But then Misha went back up to him and put his arm around Jensen’s neck—kind of wrestling him, ya know? So Jensen wrestled back, all while saying how stupid the _Destiel_ thing is and how the fans need to drop it since it’s been _how-ever-many years_ with no evidence.”

           Bob watches as Robbie’s smile falls.

           “And then Misha goes off on his usual tangent about how there is _plenty_ of evidence in the subtext—basically … _everything_ we addressed in the 200 th … but I mean, _Jer_ … I’m telling you, these two are practically _screaming_ at each other, right? Saying the same shit they’ve been saying at damn near _every_ shoot _for years._ But _now_ … now they’re just grinnin’ while doing it, and _touching_ , and I mean … that time, with the fight scene—Jensen had literally wrestled Misha to the ground and was _straddling_ him, leaning in really close—I mean _really_ close—but still telling the guy that he wouldn’t _ever_ go for the idea of Dean and Cas getting together. And they were just off in their own world, ya know? I mean, it was _weird_ and _awkward_ and we all just had to avert our eyes because it was all too much! It felt like we should have either left or told them to get a room.”

           Jeremy holds up his hand, urging Bob to stop while he pinches the bridge of his nose with his other. “So …” he says with a sigh. “What are you getting at with all this, Bob? I mean …”

           “We’re _sick_ _of it!_ We’re just sick of it, Jer! The entire crew, _myself_ … even the other directors who are only there for _one episode_ —they’re sick of it before we even wrap! We have been listening to them argue about the damn _Destiel shit_ for nearly _seven_ years now. And over the past two … it seems like it’s more just out of _habit_ then out of actual disagreement.”

           “ _So_ , you’re saying that you think they both _want_ it to happen?”

           Bob sighs. “I wouldn’t say they thought of it that way, but I’m saying that if it _did_ get written in … I don’t think that Jensen would be _nearly_ as up in arms about it as he claims, and it would _finally_ give the rest of us a break from hearing about it _over and over again._ ”

           “You realize what you’re suggesting here, Bob … this is a bridge we can’t come back over once we cross it.”

           Bob nods and looks down at the drafts for season 11—all filled with ideas that they’ve already done in some way or another. “I know, _but it’s torture_. I have to wait _hours_ to get my shots to work around their arguing … and _now,_ they mess up their hair and make-up and wardrobe with all their wrestling and _touching_ … it makes directing— _hell._ I’m not saying we should make it some major focal point of the season, or that it even has to be anything more than _heavily implied._ But if we can at least tell the guys that we’re _doing it_ —that it’s _actually_ happening … it might just _finally_ shut them up!”

***

           They can still hear commotion out on the street. Jibcon was always crazy, but this year seemed extra _nuts_. Jensen could only smile as he sat across from Misha, watching the man sip from a mug of hot tea. He finally turned away from his friend and took a drink of his wine, enjoying how each gulp seemed to ease a new muscle.

           “I think they’re going to be mad at us” Misha says suddenly, looking down at his mug as if he was in the middle of a conversation with it, and Jensen had only _just_ started listening.

           “What?”

           “ _The fans_ … once they watch the finale, I think they’re going to be pretty upset.”

           Jensen takes another sip of his wine and nods. “Yeah, it’s going to be an emotional one.”

           Misha chuckles, shaking his head at his friend. “No, _not that._ About you and me … well, _Dean and Cas.”_

Jensen sits a little straighter, cupping the curve of his glass with his other hand and stroking his thumb along the side. “What about them?”

           “Well, the last episode they saw … you— _Dean_ , damn near killed me. And throughout the season, there seemed to be a lot of _suggestions_ …”

           A sigh carries out from his lips. He’s feeling too tired to debate this how he normally would. “I don’t think anything was really _suggested_ this season, Mish.”

           “There were some pretty big nods to you and me … _Dean and Cas—_ having something deeper than friendship. The whole _Collette_ thing, for one.”

           Jensen watches as Misha clutches his mug, looking small somehow atop the overstuffed couch that he’s sitting on. The little room they’ve occupied is unique—a strange sort of common area next to one of the many kitchens in this old hotel. It’s private and cozy, and both him and his exhausted friend felt it would be a good spot to wind down after such a hectic weekend. He can’t help but smile as the man in front of him squirms, obviously getting really worked up over the idea of the fans being disappointed in _anything._ It’s nice somehow … knowing that he still cares so much even after all these years. It makes Jensen care more by association.

           “I just hate feeling like we’re dragging them along … especially when we truly don’t have much say in the matter. We’re getting dragged along too … _I don’t know_ ” Misha finishes in a whisper, finally washing down the last of his nerve with the last of his tea.

           One more sip, and his wine is gone too, leaving him free of care and _full_ of will to go join Misha on the couch. After everything with Jared, he couldn’t stand _another_ one of his best friends feeling upset over _anything_ … even if it is something as ridiculous their characters hooking up. Misha looks to him as he walks over to his side—and his large, moon eyes sink down to the horizon with Jensen’s body. “Man … you have to remember, _every_ year they think something big is going to happen with us … or, _our characters_. But it _never_ ends that way. I know how you feel about all this—but you just need to accept at some point that it’s _never_ going to happen … otherwise, _this_ will keep happening.”

           “I did accept it for the most part when they brought Felicia on. I began joking more openly about the Dean and Cas thing with the fans, because I knew they at least had _her_ , and she was just an awesome character and really offered another level to the show. But _now_ … well, _you know_ , she’s gone and so is that gale force wind she brought with her. I mean, I know she’ll be back, but not _regularly_ , so all that focus is on us again … and I kind of led everyone on with my smart ass comments here and there. I just feel bad that I went and did all that, and we won’t ever deliver.”

           “You and your smart ass comments” Jensen laughs, clapping his hand on Misha’s back as he reclines in the seat.

           Misha looks back at him with a smile, finally leaning back too once Jensen moves his arm. “Yeah, those always manage to come back and bite me in the ass, don’t they?”

           “Yep. You think you’d learn.”

           “ _I know._ I think your stubborn, _old man_ ways are starting to rub off on me.”

           Jensen sours his face as he gives Misha an askance glare. “There’s another one.”

           “Well, _that’s_ not a smart ass comment, that’s the _truth_.” Misha’s eyes glow with playfulness as he looks at his friend.

           “You’re lucky I’m too worn out to kick your ass.”

           Misha laughs and pats Jensen’s knee. “ _Oh_ , like you really could anyway.”

           The challenge lights a new fire within him—making his eyes curve and smile, while his lips stay flat as to not give himself away. Jensen takes a deep breath, sitting up with the exhale and reaching out to grab the mug from Misha’s other hand. It’s soon placed on the end table beside him, and his co-star can only look on— _confused_.

           “What are you doing?”

           Jensen doesn’t respond, turning back to face Misha dead on.

           “ _Jensen_ …” Misha asks again with his voice already plagued with worry.

           The green eyed man pounces just as Misha tries to slide away—capturing him beneath his weight and pinning him to the couch. “I’m still too tired to kick your ass, but that doesn’t mean I can’t easily overtake you.”

           Amused blues wriggle around—his body slowly following as it moves beneath the dense press of Jensen’s form. “ _This_ is your move … _laying on me_?”

           Jensen groans, feeling more tired now that he’s prone. “ _Mhm,_ _sleepy_. Can’t do much else.”

           Misha laughs beneath him, warming his skin and making his whole body vibrate. “And you wonder why people think there’s something going on between us.”

           Jensen smiles, his head on his friend’s chest, still letting all his weight hold the man to the cushions. “I think that’s on _you_ too … all your _Jensen is the horse_ bullshit.”

           “I’m not saying I didn’t do my part … but _uh,_ _this_ is pretty suspicious looking—you have to admit.”

           He widens his eyes a little, thinking about what an outside view of them would look like right now. _Yeah … probably not good._ With another groan, Jensen begins to peel himself away, finally stilting his arms and propping his body up, hovering over his friend.

           “Well—at least with _this,_ I won’t have to feel like I’m lying when I talk about you being all over me” Misha laughs, seeming much more eased now than he was a moment ago.

           Jensen chuckles. “Yeah … guess not.”

           “Now, if you could only do that while in _Dean-mode_ … I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about any of it.”

           He squints his eyes, looking over his friend’s face—the humor filling the blue, but also, _everything else_. The man is so complete—there are no empty spaces inside him, nothing to wonder about or doubt … he’s got a bit of every corner of the world hiding under his skin, and Jensen can’t help but find it amazing that there could be room for guilt _anywhere._ “You really feel guilty about leading them on, don’t you?”

           The humor dips down, letting something sadder peek through the cobalt rings. Misha nods—making Jensen’s stomach lurch, sloshing about the wine that’s drowned all his concern for what other people might say or think. His elbows bend, dropping his body forward—so quick, his mind is left spinning behind him. With his eyes closed and his inhibitions, still stateside, Jensen presses his lips to the corner of Misha’s mouth. In breath, he’s already pulling away—grinning wide with what he’s done, even though he’s not truly sure of what that is.

           “ _Um_ …” Misha begins, eyes blown as his jaw starts to bounce. “Wh—what was that about?”

           Jensen’s grin remains, even though he knows— _it’s out of character for Dean_. “Now you don’t have to feel guilty, Cas … you’re not lyin’ ‘bout nothin’.”

           Misha cocks his head to the side, and Jensen isn’t sure if he’s actually confused or just playing his part. “Thank you … _Dean_ ” he finally mutters … but his voice isn’t low enough to truly be from heaven.

           Shivers creep across his skin all the same—the way they did when he first heard the angel talk … and then again when Misha showed his _true_ self to him. The contradiction, _the entire spectrum_ —all confined in _one man_ … it was enough to make Jensen gawk during that first day, and for many days after. He loses himself in the echoes in his head, not even realizing that he’s still close to Misha’s face— _his lips_ , nor that the man below him has lifted his hand, letting his fingers grapple at the hanging fabric of his shirt. He starts to come to as Misha pulls him down, and his heart begins to race when their lips meet again— _this time_ , under his _friend’s_ command. His mind retreats once more, only leaving the relentless shivers, and one fleeting, ironic thought—that even though _he’s_ the one pinning the guy, Misha has still somehow overtaken him completely.

***

           “I should probably tell Danneel about this.”

           “I should probably tell Vicki … _although_ , she’s going to ask me to record whatever happens next.” Misha’s jaw suddenly clenches and he looks away—his lips still tingling from the last five minutes and all of Jensen’s bites. “ _I mean_ … not that anything _needs_ to happen. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.” He finally looks back up as his friend’s heavy breath tumbles down, warming his chest. Jensen’s face is bright red, and Misha can tell—the man is on the verge of a panic attack.

           “Yeah … _uh_ … I don’t have a fuckin’ clue either.”

           “I’m sorry, Jensen. I didn’t mean to push anything on you. I shouldn’t have … _you know,_ done _that_.”

           Jensen’s eyes are still looking towards the ground, but the fire in his face recedes, only smoldering in either one of his cheeks. “I … I didn’t … _um_ … I didn’t really mind it.”

           Misha feels himself freeze—his heart stopping completely and he wonders how he’s still even conscious now that all the blood in his body has turned solid. “ _Yeah_?”

           “Yeah …” Jensen confirms, glancing up at him quickly—deepening the blush that’s singeing his skin.

           Misha grins, his heart finally deciding to beat again. “I … I didn’t really mind either.”

 

* * *

 

 

-Two Months Later-

           “Okay, so when they get here, let me do the talking … _everyone_ , just go about your business. I don’t want anyone staring and letting them know that something’s up.”

           The handful of crew members that are there for the staging nodded, all seeming far too giddy for Bob’s liking.

           “ _Hey now_ … this isn’t a sure thing yet. We still need their _okay_ , overall … and if we don’t get it, _well,_ we don’t really have a show, do we?”

           The faces of the workers quickly sober, biting their lips and looking at one another with raised brows. A walkie talkie chirps out a static voice, announcing that Jensen and Misha had arrived.

           “Alright everyone— _scooch_! Remember … _act natural_.” He turns just in time to see the two men walking through the large entryway, seemingly, not in any rush to get to the set— distracted and happily chatting and smiling to each other. _At least they’re in good moods._

           “Hey, Bob” Misha greets, barely looking away from Jensen’s luminous face.

           “Hi, guys. Can you … can you _uh,_ come sit down with me for a sec? I wanna chat with you about something.”

           Both the men lose their humor, glancing at one another before looking back at Bob—full of concern and curiosity. “Sure thing … what’s this about?” Jensen asks, his voice deepening with worry.

           “ _Just_ … just come sit down.”

           “We weren’t canceled, were we?” Misha tosses in with a chuckle, but Bob can tell that there’s something sincere in his words.

           “ _Nah_ … no, nothing like that. Not yet at least” he attempts to joke, but neither of the actors is laughing anymore. They all finally reach a few director’s chairs that have been grouped together in a small circle—pre staged for this discussion. “Have a seat … do you guys want some water or something?” He cringes a little, knowing he’s sounding like a distant acquaintance, rather than someone who has known these boys for nearly a decade. He isn’t surprised when both Misha and Jensen shake their heads in refusal. “Alright, _well_ … I will just cut right to it then. I had a meeting with Robbie and Jeremy, discussing what we were going to be doing for the coming season … _and_ , we all came to an agreement on something that we know might not sit well with you two, _well … one of you._ ” His eyes fall to Jensen, making the man straighten out in his chair.

           “What did you guys agree upon?” Misha asks, being the inquisitive one as usual, whereas Jensen remains silent—looking more scared and confused as the seconds inch by.

           “Well … we, we have given it _a lot_ of thought, and we think …” he takes a breath, wringing his hands in his lap and trying to project the best way to escape his seat if Jensen decides to blow up.

           “ _Yeah_?” Misha urges, leaning forward a little, making the tall chair rock on its toes.

           “ _Uh_ … well, you have to understand that this wasn’t an easy discussion to have. Jensen, I have been on _your_ side of the matter for a long time; but we just feel … that with the story lines getting a little repetitive, and the fan-base getting upset by some of the turns we’ve taken—we just _really_ needed to do something to throw it all back into balance. _I mean_ —we are the show that takes everything to new levels.”

           Jensen nods uneasily, gripping the armrests at his sides, so hard—his knuckles are turning white.

           “Bob … _you’re stalling_. Just tell us what you all are planning” Misha demands, sounding more frustrated now that they’ve been sitting here a while.

           Bob takes one final look at Jensen’s face before glancing around to the rest of the crew—they have all but stopped working, ears perked, waiting to see what comes from all this. He rolls his eyes, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to play it cool while witnessing such a show. His sights drop back down to his hands, finally squeezing them together—holding on as the words dance on his tongue. “We …” he sighs, knowing it’s _now_ or _never_. “We are writing _Destiel_ into the script.” He closes his eyes, waiting for the explosion.

           A laugh meets his ears.

           He looks up to see Jensen: _head back_ —spewing giddiness towards the roof with force. Misha is grinning beside him, looking off into the distance, like the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders.

           “ _Umm_ …” Bob begins, feeling more scared now with the unexpected reaction.

           Jensen keeps laughing, finally composing himself after a few more seconds and wiping at his tearing eyes with the back of his hand.

           “Is … is that alright with you boys?” Bob asks—his voice wavering with confusion.

           Jensen reaches over and slaps his, knee, shaking his head as his eyes arc— _carefree_ and _happy_. “ _Dude_ … I thought you were going to give us _bad_ news. _Jesus_ … don’t scare us like that!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for even more Cockles Week fics!
> 
>  
> 
> I also have other Cockles and Destiel stories on the rest of my Ao3.
> 
>  
> 
> Check out my tumblr at [castiel-left-his-mark-on-me](castiel-left-his-mark-on-me.tumblr.com)


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